


The proper care and feeding of Prophets

by Majinie



Series: hugging it out [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sam gives the best hugs, Season/Series 08, Sleep-Deprived Kevin, but it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majinie/pseuds/Majinie
Summary: Kevin is overworked, sleep-deprived and near his breaking point. Sam steps in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one exists because I think Kevin might be doing better if the Winchesters had forced him to sleep more than two hours a day... And because it was prompted. ;) Set toward the end of season 8, because that's where I am right now.  
> It's a little similar to the Crobby one, now that I think about it.  
> Also, I sort of went into sleep-deprived rambly mode for this because it seemed to fit (and I'm tired). Have fun!

_The blue ones are for the headaches. And the green ones are for pep._

Kevin stared at the two pills in his palm for a few seconds and then dry-swallowed them. Only half a minute later, it occurred to him to wash them down with the stale coffee on the table next to him, which he did without taking his eyes off of the blurring chicken scratches on the damn tablet. His eyes were burning and he got a little dizzy whenever he got up, but he'd be fine.

He just had to finish this. Then he'd be out.

Determinedly, he squinted a few times until the tablet was in focus again and picked up his pencil, trying to concentrate on the damn second trial. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the front door rattled and creaked. Kevin was still contemplating whether he should dive under the table or not when Dean called out: “It's us, don't panic.” Sam added a quiet “hey” and a wave while his older brother placed the groceries on a free surface. 

“'fraid I haven't really gotten anything new yet,” Kevin admitted, staring down at the stone tablet dejectedly. “Just bits and pieces.”

“It's fine,” Sam assured. “We were in the area.”

The young prophet looked up and met Sam's eyes, fixed on him and narrowed slightly. “You doing okay?” the hunter asked in what he probably thought was a casual and offhanded tone. It wasn't.

“Of course I'm okay,” Kevin responded dismissively. “The sooner I'm getting this over with the better. I'll crack it, just you wait.” Suddenly feeling restless (still tired, but unable to sit still), he pushed his chair back and strolled toward where Dean had put the grocery bag. He reached inside aimlessly and came away with an apple, but didn't actually feel like eating, so he tossed it in the air and caught it, quick, nervous, repetitive.

Sam was looming behind him, tall and concerned in that gentle giant way of his, and Dean announced: “We probably oughta be heading out again anyway if we're gonna get to that town tonight. You coming, Sammy?”

Kevin waved a hand absent-mindedly at Dean's “see you later, short buzz” and almost missed Sam's “yeah, go ahead, I'll just be a minute”. He turned around when it registered, frowning.

“Is there anything you need? I can show you what I got so far, but it really doesn't make much sense yet 'cause you'll need context, of course, but –”

“Kevin.” He blinked when Sam's hands settled on his shoulders, large enough to cover them completely. “You look like you haven't slept properly in weeks. You've got to get to bed, I mean it.”

“I'm _fine_ ,” Kevin insisted, and then, because for some reason his possibly _slightly_ sleep-deprived brain didn't shut up after just that simple statement, “I am, I swear, and I can't _stop_ 'cause if I do I'll never get this done and I really, really just want to be through with the whole demon bullshit, Sam, seriously.”

“Hey, calm down, it's okay,” Sam tried. “All I'm saying is...”

“No, it's _not_ okay,” the prophet interrupted him, voice rising slightly to get the hunter to understand. “It's not okay, I can't _do_ this anymore. I hate this place and I hate having to be on the run and the goddamn tablet, I hate that too,” his voice was starting to waver now, beginning to sound choked, “I want _out_.” He was taking quick, shallow breaths and Sam was crouching in front of him, trying to talk him down, but none of what he was saying made any sense because Kevin's head was swimming and he needed to get back to work, dammit.

“Absolutely not,” Sam declared, and had he been talking out loud? He hadn't meant to do that. “You're still doing it. Come on, a few hours of sleep, hm?” He was talking like he was trying to soothe a spooked animal, something small and fluffy that needed protecting.

Kevin did feel small in front of Sam. Then again, he supposed there weren't many people who wouldn't.

“Let's get you to bed.”

He shook his head vehemently, noticing to his own humiliation that there were tears beginning to gather in his eyes because Sam didn't seem to _get_ it.

“I _can't_ ,” he snapped. “I can't because I need to get this done or I'll never – I just wanna be done, and out, and then I can sleep all I want but I don't want to do it here because I have more important –”

“Hey, hey. Shh.” Kevin sucked in a hitching breath when Sam pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms effortlessly all around him. One large hand splayed out over the prophet's back, the other rested on the back of his head. “Hey, I've got you. It's okay.” He really did sound like he was talking to a scared horse, or maybe a child. “Relax, Kevin, take a deep breath, okay?”

He obeyed because that seemed like the easiest thing to do right then, and continued to follow the hunter's lead while Sam gently instructed him to take full breaths. With each exhale, he could feel some of the tension draining from his shoulders and starting to perceive the embrace as something more than having stumbled forward and against something warm.

Sam was so freaking _big_ it was ridiculous. Kevin could comfortably rest his head against the hunter's chest and since Sam still hadn't let go for some reason, he raised his own arms to wrap them around the taller man's waist tentatively. The sound and feeling of Sam's heart where his ear was pressed against his chest drowned out and replaced the pounding of Kevin's head with its own, gentle rhythm, _badum-ba, badum-ba, badum-ba_.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. It was long enough for the prophet's shaking to subside and also for him to wonder whether Sam was going to notice the damp spot on his flannel because his eyes were leaking, okay, it's a thing that happens, no need to get all dramatic over it. Sam was warm and large enough to wrap Kevin up so securely he might just forget about the tablet for a minute.

“Okay,” the hunter said quietly, without letting go. Kevin could feel the words vibrate through his chest. “I'm going to get you something to drink now, you're going to eat, and then you'll sleep.” The prophet opened his mouth to say something, but Sam added: “Those were neither questions nor suggestions. Got it?”

Kevin swallowed, then nodded minutely. “Okay,” he whispered.

Sam patted his back gently before he stepped out of the embrace. “Good. Come on, then.”

Ten minutes later, he had made the prophet eat the apple, drink two glasses of water and led him toward his bedroom. Kevin frowned at him. “Hey, you can't –”

“Try and stop me,” Sam interrupted while he turned the alarm clock off. “When I said you're getting some sleep, I didn't mean five hours. Or two. Or however much you've been getting, because it's clearly not been enough.”

“But I...” Kevin started again, weakly, and gave up when the hunter sat down next to him and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against his side. He fit comfortably under the taller man's arm and heaved another sigh, closing his eyes.

“You're working yourself ragged,” Sam told him quietly. “Do me a favour and try to take care of yourself a little more, alright?”

“Or what?” Kevin muttered, and okay, maybe he was feeling a little sleepy, sue him.

“Or I'm gonna have to do it for you.”

The prophet tilted his head upward to catch a look at Sam's face. “That a promise?”

Sam blinked at him, but then smiled, wide enough to have dimples appearing on his cheeks. “You bet. I'll even make Dean cook for you.” His smile became a little softer. “Goodnight, Kevin.”

“Night, Sam.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings for Sam's smile. He needs to be protected PLEASE. I mean look at him.  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/d47662f2098dc794ce1886dc2e9819d2/tumblr_inline_o0ziboC3GZ1tlzs15_500.gif  
> Also, it was surprisingly hard not to make this too shippy and I don't know how noticeable that is, but I hope you liked it!


End file.
